Chapter 50

Long-Distance Magic

When Isaac knocked on the church’s main doors, an old priest slowly opened them.

The massive double doors opened only slightly—just enough to reveal his face.

The old priest did not look pleased at all to be visited at such a late hour.

“Please return after dawn.”

“I came to seek peace from the Lord, as I am troubled by the night.”

Isaac said this and handed over two silver coins.

The priest’s expression immediately softened.

“The Lord does not turn away those who seek Him. May His peace be with you.”

“Thank you.”

Isaac and Bill went inside the prayer hall and pretended to pray.

“So what now?”

Bill whispered.

The priest stood at a distance, hands folded, watching them.
As long as he remained there, they had no choice but to quietly pretend to pray.

At least there was a consolation—the church had benches, so they could sit while praying.

“Wait.”

Isaac replied briefly.

Bill wondered if Isaac had learned some kind of dark sorcery.
Or perhaps his faith was so deep that he could call divine judgment through prayer alone.

But Bill quickly shook his head.

In his eyes, Isaac was anything but a devout believer.

He had killed Neers in a single strike.
He had even tamed a massive hell wolf.

No matter how one looked at it, that creature seemed more like a hellish watchdog.

If God had a place prepared for Isaac, it would likely be closer to hell than heaven.

Time passed aimlessly, and even Bill, lost in useless thoughts, began to doze off.

The priest wandering nearby let out a long yawn and eventually left the prayer hall.

Isaac quietly opened his eyes.

He did not bother waking Bill.

Bill was sprawled out on the bench, fast asleep.

The two silver coins had effectively become his lodging fee.

Isaac began climbing the bell tower.

The spiral staircase seemed endless.

As he ascended, mana condensed and dispersed repeatedly at his fingertips.

For a knight, this was equivalent to warming up.

It was the process of stabilizing one’s internal flow of power and rechecking the basics of magic execution.

Normally, Isaac did not need such preparation.

But today was different.

Jonas once said: “In chess, strategy is only 1%. The rest is tactics.”

It might not fully apply to reality, but in this situation—it did.

For Isaac, who had fragments of future knowledge, this situation was like a chessboard with rules.

His victory condition was clear: break the forces attempting to claim Bern’s autonomy and transfer their gains to Goethe in a stable, lasting way.

There was a strategy.

That strategy was to break their alliance.

To disrupt them with unexpected variables.

And it all began with the death of Mayor Baris—the central pillar of Bern City.

Now, the real issue was tactics.

Baris had to die—but there must be no trace linking Isaac to the act.

He had instructed Carlson to deliver a parchment with his name, but there could be no detectable connection between Isaac and the assassination.

Furthermore, Baris’s death had to be incomprehensible.

It needed to instill fear—fear that death could come anywhere, anytime.

That fear would bind the Marquis’s movements and create openings for the next step.

“For that… this magic has to succeed.”

Isaac’s chosen method was magic.

Not assassination through Carlson.

Not hiring an archer.

Not poisoning a chef.

Not bribing guards.

Magic.

The very thing he had devoted most of his past life to.

The reason he had endured his painful existence.

Something he had once wanted to try again after overcoming his special condition.

Though he never imagined it would be used like this.

Whoooosh—

At the top of the bell tower, strong winds howled.

Three massive bells made of bronze and copper hung from iron beams.

Isaac removed his hood.

From this point on, sight and sensation mattered more than anything.

Temperature, humidity, wind—all had to be felt, calculated, and applied.

His eyes glowed a bright golden light.

Without the wolf king’s senses, he would not have even attempted this tactic.

Blue mana gathered violently into his right hand.

Crack!

Ice crystals formed at his fingertips.

Crackle!

Unlike when he fought Neers, Isaac layered multiple layers of freezing magic.

But the overcooled structure collapsed like flour, scattering into dust.

“I need a core.”

Isaac muttered.

He gathered dust, straw, and stone fragments from the tower and used them as a nucleus.

Then he cast freezing magic again.

Moisture in the air latched onto it like a magnet, freezing instantly.

A small, marble-sized ice crystal floated at his fingertips.

But he did nothing yet.

He simply sat on the edge of the tower, overlooking the city lights.

The bell tower was the tallest in Bern’s largest church.

Dozens of meters high.

The city below looked distant and swallowed in darkness.

A perfect position.

From here, Baris’s mansion was visible.

A thousand steps away in a straight line—but that meant nothing to Isaac.

The wolf king’s enhanced perception allowed him to see distant objects regardless of light.

He focused entirely on sight.

The faintly glowing mansion came into sharp focus, as if it were right before him.

Guards stood watch, just as Bill had said.

At least eight were visible from Isaac’s angle.

There were likely more on the opposite side.

The mansion’s glass windows were perfectly transparent.

Baris would never imagine that his expensive windows would contribute to his death.

Inside, Baris was dining.

Servants moved frequently, and a woman—likely his wife—blocked parts of Isaac’s view.

He hesitated repeatedly.

The ice crystal hovered constantly, never leaving his hand.

This was a single opportunity.

Failure was not acceptable.

He had never once practiced this magic.

Even in the future Isaac knew, no record existed of magic hitting a target from over a thousand steps away.

It was beyond conventional magic.

Long-distance magic.

Not only magical skill—but physical perception was essential.

He had to succeed without practice.

Without error.

It was unlikely such an opportunity would come again tonight.

“Hoo…”

Isaac exhaled deeply.

His eyes stung from overexertion.

He refocused.

Instead of vision, he concentrated on the ice crystal itself.

He adjusted its trajectory using phase manipulation.

He imagined the ideal strike:

The crystal piercing Baris’s vital point, killing him instantly.

Then melting inside the body, mixing with blood.

The examiner would only find strange traces of dust and straw.

They would never understand why.

But first—the crystal must be stable.

Too cold, and it would shatter mid-flight.

Too warm, and it would lose all power.

Balance was critical.

He also had to account for wind, trajectory decay, and duration of control after release.

He continuously adjusted it in the air.

At the same time, he monitored Baris.

Time passed without him noticing.

He had become fully immersed.

The only thing that mattered was reducing the error between tower and target.

Dawn slowly broke.

His calculations were nearing completion—but still imperfect.

His body was exhausted.

He had not slept.

Then Baris appeared in the garden.

Waddling out in a robe, smiling faintly.

He sat at a tea table.

Servants placed tea in front of him.

Baris lifted the cup and enjoyed the morning aroma.

Isaac felt it.

There would not be a better chance.

Baris would not move for a while.

His body was not in perfect condition.

Failure was possible.

But not acting was worse.

There was no better alternative.

“Hoo… fuu…”

Isaac breathed deeply like meditation.

He checked wind direction, humidity, temperature.

He reinforced the ice crystal again.

It would not melt immediately upon impact—but it needed enough strength to kill.

Baris gazed at the sunrise, seemingly content.

The sky turned pink.

Mana surged violently through Isaac’s six circulation pathways.

Normally, one phase shift per pathway was enough.

But now—he used four simultaneously.

Whoosh—

His hair fluttered violently.

Not from wind—but from the force of magic release.

The ice crystal shot forward.

Instantly, it left his control.

Isaac clenched his fist and focused.

Time passed in an instant.

The crystal should have struck Baris’s head.

But Baris remained calmly holding his tea.

Isaac’s mind raced:

Missed? Detected? Deflected? Wind miscalculation?

Then—

Baris tilted.

His chair collapsed.

His body fell to the ground.

Servants rushed in.

Guards surrounded him.

Isaac strained his vision.

Baris was trembling violently.

Then slowly—

the convulsions stopped.

His gaze remained fixed.

Not at the sunrise.

Not at the sky.

At nothing.

His body went limp.

And Isaac saw it.

Through partial angle—

Baris’s eye sockets were empty.

Isaac felt a chill run through his entire body.

Not cold air.

Something deeper.

A shock.

The long-distance magic had succeeded.